


Distraction

by loves_books



Category: Lewis (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-13
Updated: 2014-07-13
Packaged: 2018-02-08 17:47:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1950453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loves_books/pseuds/loves_books
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There was something strangely disorienting about seeing James wearing his glasses in the office. The whole world felt ever so slightly off-kilter, almost as if they’d entered a bizarre dreamland.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Distraction

**Author's Note:**

> Huge thanks to Willowbrooke for doing a wonderful job as beta, and for helping me make some kind of sense out of the ending when I had no idea where it was going. I've tinkered with this a bit more since she last looked at it, so any remaining mistakes are all down to me.

There was something strangely disorienting about seeing James wearing his glasses in the office. The whole world felt ever so slightly off-kilter, almost as if they’d entered a bizarre dreamland. Lewis had abandoned any attempt at completing his own paperwork after realising he’d managed to spell his own name wrong three times on one form, though so far he was managing to resist staring outright at the man sitting on the far side of their office, stealing sideways glimpses instead.

James never wore his glasses at work, not even on the rare occasions when he had to duck out for an optometrist’s appointment in the middle of the day. Usually, the only time Lewis saw them was late at night, when the younger man would finally remove his contact lenses at the end of a long day before climbing into bed beside him. And even then it was only on nights when James was planning to read for a while, although on most nights they found other, far more pleasurable ways to pass the time before falling asleep in each other’s arms. So today was a rare exception, and those glasses were proving to be very distracting for Lewis.

A chase through boggy fields earlier in the day had ended with James stretching his long legs in a sprint to catch their suspect. Lewis had been bringing up the rear when he’d seen his sergeant finally catching up with the desperate man before launching himself into a rugby tackle that had sent them both tumbling to the ground. The ensuing scuffle had ended quickly, with the suspect in handcuffs and no serious injuries other than a few bruises and James’s best winter coat being covered in mud, but it had also cost the sergeant one of his contact lenses after a bump to the head. 

Lewis had kept half an eye on James during the hour they’d spent on site, looking for the evidence their suspect had dumped when he realised he was going to be caught. The knock to the head had definitely not been anything serious, thank goodness, but James had grumbled a fair bit at first about the cost of replacing another set of lenses. Lewis had expected nothing less, and he’d smiled fondly for a second before watching as James buckled down and worked as hard as he always did, though he was blinking rapidly and squinting a little the whole time.

With one lens in and one out, Lewis was sure James’s poor eyes had been strained, and when they’d eventually returned to the station he’d watched silently as his partner retrieved the small black leather case he kept in the bottom drawer of his desk before vanishing in the direction of the men’s room. He’d expected James to come back with the other lens out and eye drops in. He hadn’t expected the glasses.

Thin, frameless glasses, with gold arms snaking away behind James’s ears. Simple glass rectangles that framed those dark and sometimes stormy eyes perfectly. They were subtle, barely noticeable if it wasn’t for the moments when the lenses caught the light, flashing as brightly as the blonde hair on top of James’s head.

Those glasses were ridiculously distracting. Since Lewis’s mind linked James’s glasses to their bedroom, it was just wrong seeing them here at work. Like two worlds colliding. 

And then there was the fact that James was voluntarily wearing them – 

Lewis frowned, staring openly at James now. At the stiff set of his shoulders, and the tiny lines of pain hovering on his brow as his sergeant bent over his computer. “Go home, man,” he said softly, not surprised to see James shake his head immediately.

“Nearly done, Sir. Another half hour should do it.”

“Go home.” It was after five already, and they’d had an early start, Lewis’s phone dragging them both out of a deep sleep before the sun had even crept over the horizon. It was the worst possible way to wake up, even if it did happen with depressing regularity in their line of work. He’d been spooned up behind James, nose buried in all that soft blonde hair he loved, so incredibly reluctant to move. Though he had moved, of course. They both had. “You’ve got a headache. Go home already.”

“It’s just a headache.” James’s voice was deep and husky, but he didn’t look over at Lewis as he reached up to remove his glasses briefly, massaging the bridge of his nose before slipping them back on. 

“You’re not even tryin’ to deny it?” Lewis shook his head, stretching as he levered himself slowly up from his chair, decision made. “Home, James. Now.”

“Sir, really…”

Three strides took Lewis around his desk and over behind James, where he slipped his hands onto the younger man’s shoulders, squeezing the tense muscles gently. “Come on,” he murmured, letting his hands rest there for just a moment before pulling reluctantly away. Not in the office. Never in the office. “This’ll all wait until tomorrow. I’ll drive.”

A resigned sigh from James. To Lewis’s relief the other man nodded, starting to shut down his computer and tidy away the pile of paperwork which had formed. By the time he was done, Lewis had gathered up their jackets and was waiting by the door, the plastic bag containing James’s mud-soaked coat tucked under one arm. 

Once he’d got James out of the office, the last of the resistance seemed to drain from the younger man. He let Lewis open the door for him as they left the station, and again when they got to Lewis’s car. He slumped silently in the passenger seat as they pulled away, not even raising an eyebrow when the radio stayed off, simply closing his eyes with another sigh.

The glasses stayed on, though, and Lewis had to remind himself more than once to concentrate on the road ahead rather than on the way those simple spectacles framed the lad’s handsome features.

He drove steadily, carefully, trying not to jostle James in any way. Lewis wasn’t truly worried – a headache was just a headache, after all, hardly rare for either of them given the hours they worked and the stresses they endured – but he’d be happier once he got his man home and settled. Thankfully the drive wasn’t long and the traffic stayed light; in no time at all Lewis had found a parking spot and was ushering a still-docile James indoors. 

“Go an’ grab a hot shower,” he told his partner once the door was closed firmly behind them, keeping his voice low. “An’ take some of those pills of yours, yeah?”

Extra-strength migraine medication, though Lewis knew James hated taking it unless it was absolutely necessary, saying it made him dopey and nauseous. In all honesty, Lewis didn’t think the younger man had a migraine now, not quite at least, but the pills would certainly stop one from developing.

For a long moment he thought James would protest, and Lewis steeled himself to argue the point with his stubborn sergeant. Instead, James heaved yet another sigh, his shoulders sagging wearily, and nodded just once. “Okay,” came the tired whisper.

Lewis smiled, reaching one hand round to stroke gently at the short hairs on the back of James’s head. “C’mere, you,” he murmured, leaning up as the other man leaned down, and stealing a brief, almost chaste kiss. “I’ll get us something light cooking for tea.”

James smiled back at him, though it was a weak and pale imitation of the bright smile Lewis was more used to seeing when they were alone together in their home. “Thanks,” James breathed, squeezing his eyes shut with a painful wince before forcing them back open with obvious effort. He moved off down the hallway towards the bathroom, leaving Lewis standing alone by their front door.

He shook himself into action once the sound of running water told him James was safely into the shower, knowing his partner would hate it if he hovered too much. James wasn’t a fan of being fussed over, or of being nursed when he wasn’t feeling too well, though that was always Lewis’s first instinct. So now, instead of following his lover into the shower as he wanted to, Lewis made quick work of changing out of his work suit and into a pair of jeans and a jumper, before pottering around in the kitchen until he heard silence again as the shower was turned off.

When James emerged from the bathroom a few minutes later, damp hair sticking up in all directions, dressed in tracksuit bottoms and a favoured hoodie that always looked at least two sizes too big for his skinny frame, Lewis was ready and waiting with a bowl of soup and a cheese toastie.

“Get that down you, pet,” he told James quietly, dropping a kiss into the mess of blonde hair. “Help those pills settle a bit easier in your stomach.”

A brief smile was his only answer, but to his relief James started eating readily enough as Lewis sat on the opposite side of the table with his own meal, suddenly realising just how hungry he was after the long and active day they’d had. To Lewis’s surprise, the younger man had put those glasses back on after his shower. James was in pain and of course it hurt Lewis to see him like that, but at the same time he couldn’t help the inappropriate thoughts which insisted on popping into his head. 

Most of which involved James wearing nothing but those glasses…

“You’re staring.” James’s muttered comment jolted Lewis back to the moment, and he belatedly realised the other man was staring right back at him, dark eyes blinking owlishly behind his glasses. Those incredible glasses. “I’m okay, really,” James continued, clearly trying to reassure Lewis. “Just a bit of a headache, and the pills have already taken the edge off it.”

Lewis wasn’t entirely convinced of the truth of that statement – there were still faint lines of pain around James’s eyes, and he was definitely still too pale even after the heat of his shower. Still, he nodded, taking a delaying sip of tea from his mug before finally admitting, “Just a bit distracting, is all. Seeing you wearin’ those.”

James looked confused for a moment, then his mouth suddenly formed a round ‘o’ of realisation, eyebrows shooting upwards. “My glasses? Really?” he sounded incredulous, but also strangely pleased.

Lewis could feel himself blushing but he managed to nod. “They suit you. Bring out your eyes. And, well… seeing you in them at work was, well… distracting.”

He knew all the reasons James wore contacts for work, knew it was for practical reasons far more than vanity. Glasses were too much of a liability doing front-line work like they did. They made a person vulnerable and an easy target – too much chance they might get knocked off or broken, potentially leaving the police with a partially-blind officer in the middle of a dangerous situation.

James gave a soft huff of laugher, shaking his head slowly. “I never knew,” he whispered in obvious bemusement. “You… You like me in my glasses?”

With those big dark eyes blinking hopefully at him from behind those neat rectangles of glass, Lewis could do nothing but nod, feeling heat pooling low in his belly. “I do,” he answered eventually.

The quirk of a questioning eyebrow, James not entirely convinced obviously. “Really?”

“Aye.” Lewis laughed a little, completely unable to tear his eyes away from the other man now. And those glasses… He felt he probably owed James more of an explanation, but he couldn’t find the right words. Wasn’t even sure of the reasons himself, if he thought about it. Something different, perhaps, on a very familiar and beloved face. But he couldn’t say that. Eventually he settled on, “Well, you only wear them in bed, normally, see?”

“Ah.” In spite of his headache, James managed a smile as the realisation of what Lewis was saying hit him. “So seeing me wearing them outside of the bedroom is… distracting?”

Somewhat embarrassed, Lewis dropped his head a fraction and simply nodded his agreement.

James’s smile grew broader still, and Lewis could almost see the wheels turning in his partner’s big brain, presumably already planning how he could use this new fact to his advantage at some point in the future.

He felt a thrill deep in his stomach to see how pleased James was by his simple admission, and he reached across the table to squeeze the other man’s hand gently. They smiled at each other a moment longer before Lewis managed to tear his gaze away, starting to clear the table after their simple meal, and shooing the younger man straight through into the living room when James tried to help.

It was the work of only a few minutes to stack the dishes and stick the saucepan in the sink to soak – he could wash up later, or tomorrow even – and then Lewis followed after James, only to stop in the doorway and frown. He’d known the younger man still wasn’t quite right, and the way James had slumped into the middle of the sofa with his head dropped back to rest in the cushions only confirmed his suspicions.

He quietly grabbed a cushion from the armchair before carefully lowering himself down next to his lover, trying not to bounce too much. “Alright?” he whispered, and James just offered him a half-smile in answer, not opening his eyes or moving an inch. “Come on.” Lewis patted the cushion in his lap. “Down you come now.”

At that, James did crack one eye open, spotting the cushion and immediately getting the idea. Lewis watched as he slid his long body down and swung his legs easily up onto the sofa, shifting around until he finally came to rest on his back with his head sinking into the cushion, eyes closed once again. 

Lewis started to stroke his fingertips gently across James’s forehead, tracing his hairline and scratching lightly back over his scalp, and to his delight the younger man practically purred at his actions. “That feels heavenly,” whispered a drowsy voice.

“Hush, you,” Lewis told him mock-sternly, and James obediently fell silent, the corners of his mouth quirked up into a tiny smile as the older man continued his slow, soothing strokes before pausing. “Let’s get these off for now.”

Reluctantly, he lifted James’s glasses off and away, folding them carefully before setting them down on the coffee table. Turning his attention back to James, Lewis used both hands to massage gentle circles into the tense skin at his lover’s temples. After a few minutes of the repetitive motions, the remaining lines of pain on James’s face started to fade away.

James’s breathing grew slow and deep, and Lewis was convinced he’d actually fallen asleep there, fed, medicated and relaxing at last. Up-drawn knees sank sideways into the cushioned back of the sofa, and James’s hands uncurled a fraction where they rested together on his stomach. 

Lewis just sat there, more than comfortable himself, as he continued to alternate his actions and soothe the man he loved as best he could. One day, he thought, he’d have to do one of those courses in Indian head massage, or whatever it was called. But for now, he just did whatever felt right. He rubbed gentle circles over James’s temples. He stroked calloused fingers over his forehead. He petted the soft blonde hair on James’s head, and scratched his too-short fingernails carefully against his lover’s scalp.

The room grew steadily more dim as the evening drew closer around them, but Lewis couldn’t bear to disturb James just to turn on a side lamp. He didn’t even want to turn on the telly, though the remote was easily within his reach. He found he was quite content just to watch James’s peaceful face, and to feel the warm weight of him in his lap.

It couldn’t last forever though, and after trying for quite a while, Lewis eventually found he couldn’t ignore his bladder any longer. For a moment he considered trying to lift the cushion, complete with its blonde head, and simply slide out, but he knew from experience that James would stir at the slightest motion. He moved one hand down to rest over James’s heart and gave a gentle shake instead. “Wake up, sleepy head,” he called softly, and sure enough, James immediately gave a slightly grumpy moan and blinked open his eyes. 

“Wha’time‘sit?” the younger man slurred with a yawn, stretching his arms out lazily.

Lewis hadn’t actually checked, but a quick glance at his watch showed him it was later than he realised. “Gone nine already. You slept for nearly two hours.”

James shuffled awkwardly up to a sitting position, folding his long legs underneath himself and settling back into the sofa cushions again, still blinking the sleep from his eyes. “Sorry,” he offered quietly. “Guess you make a good pillow.”

“You needed it, pet, nothing to be sorry for. I’m sorry for waking you – call of nature,” Lewis explained, finding he needed to stretch himself as he stood after so long sitting still. “Won’t be a minute, then you can use me as a pillow as long as you want.” 

James’s soft laughter followed him out of the room, and when Lewis returned he found the younger man sitting fully upright, feet planted on the ground, legs slightly splayed, waiting for him. And wearing his glasses again.

Oh, those amazing glasses…

“Headache’s gone, Robbie,” James told him softly, lifting his chin and raising an eyebrow in an obvious request. Lewis always found it hard to refuse James anything, and in a few short steps he had closed the distance between them. Kissing his lover gently on the lips, he instinctively raised his hands to cup the sides of the younger man’s face as he loved to do, surprised by the unfamiliar feel of the cool metal arms of those glasses. James’s warm hands came to rest on Lewis’s hips as he sighed into the kiss, clearly happy to let the older man take the lead.

Lewis moved one hand gently up into James’s hair as their kiss continued, though eventually his back started to protest at the way he was leaning forwards over the sofa and he had to pull reluctantly away. As he stood straight, he clasped James’s hand gently to pull him up with him. He reached out with his free hand to stroke curled fingers over the other man’s cheek, pleased to see a little more colour present there now after the earlier pallor.

James blinked his dark eyes at Lewis, a smile of obvious contentment hovering on his lips as the hall light glinted on the lenses of his glasses. For a long moment Lewis just smiled back, drinking in the breath-taking sight of the man he loved. Some nights they would be all over each other and Lewis would feel twenty years younger as he raced James to the bedroom, but the best nights were just like this, slow and tender, full of love and sheer wonder that they’d found each other at all.

“Come on now, you,” Lewis told him affectionately. “Before you fall asleep on your feet.” He tugged gently on James’s hand and began to lead him away down the hall. The headache might be gone but it was still clear to him that the lad was completely knackered after their long day, and their bed was calling.

Just a few short minutes later, Lewis watched with a smile as James removed his glasses for the final time that night, placing them carefully on the bedside table as they settled into bed together. As he curled up protectively around the younger man, James turned to lie in Lewis’s arms, offering him a goodnight kiss and a suggestive smile, murmuring, “I thought perhaps I might ‘distract’ you in the morning, before work?”

Lewis laughed softly. “Well now, that’s certainly something for me to look forward to.” He pressed one last kiss to the very top of James’s head, pulling him a little closer still. “Sleep, James.”

A soft, drowsy sigh told him James was already drifting off. “Night, Robbie.” 

Though their bedroom was dark, there was a narrow chink of light escaping from the edge of the curtains, reflecting on James’s glasses as they rested on a well-thumbed paperback. As Lewis closed his eyes on the sight, he couldn’t help but feel it was almost a relief to see those glasses back where they belonged, and everything finally felt right once more in their little world. “Good night, James.”


End file.
